A Love Story

Time to dust off the old blog and begin again.

What do I want to write about today?

A catch-up story about Love. And so I begin again.....

Somewhere in time, I was privileged to raise a family. I love this job, calling it my very favorite, and my first, career choice. I say this because when I was young and was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would answer, "a housewife".

I lived my first decade during the sixties, and to me, being a housewife, meant I could have children, help them with schoolwork, take them on picnics, teach them to read and how to play piano, decorate the house for Halloween, Easter, and Christmas, put on birthday parties with homemade cake and take-home-treats beside each plate like Tootsie-Pops and Bubble Gum, among other important housewife duties such as baking casseroles and cookies, dusting furniture, and vacuuming carpets. A housewife gets to have a home, and she gets to choose paint and carpet colors for each room, and that sounded like heaven to me. I didn't care about the picket fence, but I did envision a swing set and a sand box with a few trees to climb.

Along the way, and for a variety of reason, I chose to take on second jobs. These were mostly paid positions and for the most part I was and still am pretty successful at these second jobs, but my passion and, I believe, my  real life's work from October, 1990 through even today is being Mom to my two most precious children.

The other night I was watching "Makers" on PBS and got to watch women being shaped and formed before and during the years of my childhood, my college years, and beyond. Wow! I remember back to the days when my children were really little and having conversations with my friends about either my misinterpretation, or perhaps even the misguidance, that the women's movement had on my expectations for myself.

I bought into the idea that I should be able to do it all: Mother my children, make a cake from scratch, cook meals every night, take my kids to school, pick them up, be a Brownie leader, serve at church, go to every t-ball practice and game, and work at my second paid job while climbing the corporate ladder. I found myself inferior and lacking on the days when I cried as I drove to the office leaving my kids at home. I found myself inferior and lacking on the days when my boss wanted me to stay late and get a project done and I said no, because I wanted to be home in time for dinner.

No wonder, I turned to doctors and therapists to help me cope. I had bought into something that was false for me. I could not do both, at the same time, to the level of my expectations, and be happy with me.

Until........ I learned acceptance. Until, I learned, good enough. Until, I learned, boundaries. Until, I learned, realistic expectations.

Until I learned how to let go.

I learned how to buy a birthday cake from the grocery store and celebrate the day. I learned how to let go of the corporate ladder and be grateful for the income that provided for my children's needs. I learned, that my parents, my friends, my God did not expect perfection, nor should I, and I let go. I learned how to mother myself, and I learned how to love myself.

In so doing, I believe, I became a better Mom, and a better Me.

The women's movement, as a whole, was never wrong. My interpretations of my place in this world were my own. I believe, we must continue to work hard for the current and future generations of women who will struggle with these same issues and so much more. I am a feminist, and I am a bit wiser. May I never stop learning and growing, letting go of the old and embracing the new.

Namaste.